Harry's Desperate Situation
by Diadeloro
Summary: Harry's in need of some lovin', and enlists Hermione to help him find it. In the end, however, he manages to find some just fine on his own. HD humor & fluffiness.


**Disclaimer:** I own none of these characters. Harry Potter et al belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling.

**Warning:** This story contains SLASH…if you don't like it, don't read it. You have been warned.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairing:** Harry/Draco

**Harry's Desperate Situation**

"God I need to get laid!"

"Excuse me?"

Harry raised his head from it's position submerged in his porridge where he had dropped it moments earlier in frustration. He looked over to see his friends staring at him with an expressions of shock and amusement.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

At his friend's nod, Harry flushed with embarrassment, avoiding the curious gazes of his classmates while attempting to wipe the remnants of his breakfast from his forehead.

Seamus was the first to speak. "So, feeling a bit frustrated, are we?" Seamus said, grinning lewdly. "You could always pay for it, you know."

"SEAMUS!"

Seamus gave the affronted Hermione a somewhat abashed look. Then, when she returned her attention to Harry, Seamus winked at him.

"You're probably just being overly dramatic. I'm sure it's not that bad," Hermione assured Harry.

He shook his head. "No, it really _really_ is."

Hermione gave Harry a serious look, reminding him of her appearance when she was trying to solve a particularly difficult arithmancy problem.

"Harry, just _how_ long has it been, exactly?"

"Exactly?" Harry eyes scanned the table, avoiding her questioning gaze. He really did not want to answer her question. He was especially reluctant since every Gryffindor at breakfast, and half the Hufflepuff table had stopped eating, waiting for his answer.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione persisted

"Let's just say, that's I'd rather not divulge that information."

"That long, eh?" Seamus said laughing, then winced, rubbing his forehead where the roll flung by Hermione had made impact.

Harry ignored Seamus, instead turning to Hermione with a pleading look. "Hermione, could you get me a date? Please?"

"You want me to be your pimp?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Harry smiled hopefully, batting his eyelashes. "Pimp me, please pimp me."

Hermione gave Harry her most stern glare. "No. Absolutely not. That's so…tacky."

Harry got up and knelt down at his friend's feet. Clasping his hands together and looking up at her with his most pathetic puppy face, Harry prepared to beg.

"Please, Hermione," he pleaded. "Pretty please?"

Hermione groaned, dropping her head down onto the table with a loud thump. "Fine," she muttered.

Harry jumped to his feet, embracing the grimacing girl. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You won't regret this."

"I already regret this."

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, Draco groaned. He could not believe that he had been forced to miss breakfast, for _this_. Draco eyed Pansy with disgust. He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. "Now, Pansy. You know, there's nothing between us. There's never been anything between us. There never _will_ be anything between us. Just air."

"Aww, Draco, you don't mean that." Pansy pressed her body up against Draco's chest, and ran her hands through his hair.

Draco grimaced as he was overwhelmed by the stench of anchovies and garlic that wafted from her open mouth. He tried to turn his face away from her, but she invariably followed, making repeated attempts to latch her lips onto his. After trying a couple times to gently dislodge her prying fingers from his scalp, Draco finally gave up and forcefully shoved her off of him.

Stumbling backward, Pansy's adoring eyes took on a hurt and angry expression. Draco had no time to prepare himself before her palm connected with his face.

_Did she really just slap me?_ Draco stood in stunned silence and watched Pansy run tearfully from the room.

His shock from the first attack was such that he was even more unprepared for the blow that came next.

Draco looked up at Millicent from his position sprawled out on the floor. "What's your problem?" he demanded, holding his bruised eye.

"For hurting Pansy," Millicent snapped. "Asshole."

Grumbling about crazy Slytherin girls, Draco hauled himself to his feet. He turned and saw Blaise heading over to him with a grin on his face.

"Blaise, did you see that? What's gotten into th –"

The slap snapped Draco's head to the side.

Draco looked at Blaise in disbelief.

"What the hell was that for?"

Blaise shrugged. "I don't know. It looked like fun."

"And was it?"

Blaise grinned. "Yeah."

Rubbing his wounded cheek, Draco flopped down into his favorite leather, high-backed armchair. "We've got to get me someone _normal_. Seriously. I think I've had about all I can take of these crazy women. She actually _slapped_ me. _Me_. You know, I don't think I've ever been slapped before."

The image of one particular raven-haired individual rose in his mind, but it was quickly banished. Draco had long ago resigned himself to never having a chance of friendship, let alone anything more, with the Golden Boy of Gryffindor.

"Then everyone else you've met has been exceptionally forgiving, since you most certainly seem to deserve it an awful lot," Blaise pointed out.

Draco had the nerve to look offended. "That's not true. I'm always a perfect gentleman." Draco turned, spotting a small, mousy third year girl sitting at a table in the corner, engrossed in writing an essay. "You." The girl looked up from her work. "Yes, you. You're not doing anything. Get me a drink."

Blaise shook his head as the girl did as instructed, heading down to the kitchens to fetch Draco a drink. He flopped down into the chair opposite his friend. "Incredible."__

Draco smirked. "I know, isn't it? They love me."

"No, not that. A perfect gentleman, eh? I'm amazed at the ease with which you can treat everyone else like dirt."

"I don't know. It's pretty easy, really. With my god-like good looks, how could anyone say no to me?"

"You're not a god."

"Oh no?" Draco stood up and moved over to the window, positioning himself in a sunny spot so that the light shone into the room, glinting off his blond locks, creating a rather ethereal halo of light around him. Draco knew it was an incredibly flattering angle. "I beg to differ. And ask anyone, most of the female students – and several of the male ones – seem to agree with me."

Blaise scoffed. "You think so, do you?"

Draco pointed at Blaise, adopting a stern, ominous look. "Thou shall submit to my divine authority, peon," Draco spoke in a thunderous voice. "Bow down to me or thou shall be smote."

Playing along, Blaise got out of his chair and knelt at Draco's feet. He bowed over, arms outstretched, and spoke in a whining, submissive tone. "Oh, great one. I see the error of my ways. Please, do not smite me."

"Do you pledge undying fealty?"

Blaise nodded vigorously from his position on the floor. "Oh yes. The most undying of fealties."

"Do you pledge to cater to my every whim, including doing my laundry on alternating Saturdays?"

Blaise snorted and pressed his lips together in an attempt to suppress his laughter and maintain the charade. "Laundry, my Lord?"

"Do you question me, slave?" Draco thundered.

At this, Blaise finally cracked, his laughter spilling forth. Clutching his stomach he rolled over onto his side, curling up in a fetal position, laughing hysterically.

Draco glared at him in irritation. "Stop that," he ordered curtly.

Draco's order had no effect whatsoever. After several minutes, Blaise finally managed to control his laughter. However, when he looked up, the sight of Draco glaring stonily at him sent him into another fit of giggles.

Finally, Draco gave up and stormed out of the Slytherin common room muttering, "I'm surrounded by idiots" under his breath.

* * *

"Okay, so what's your type?"

"My type?" Harry questioned.

"Sure. Before we need to acquire a target. It won't be possible to proceed to step two unless step one – in other words, find someone you wouldn't mind shagging – has been achieved."

"There are steps? When did we decide on steps?"

Harry looked at Hermione with trepidation, suddenly reconsidering his decision to place Hermione in charge of 'Project Get Harry a Shag' (GHS) as they had dubbed it. She was now holding a notebook and was studiously taking notes on every person they passed as they made their way outside.

Ignoring Harry's question, Harry gestured to the tall blond who had just passed them. "What about Mandy? She's pretty."

Harry looked at the Ravenclaw's retreating figure, crinkling up his nose at the thought of dating her. "No way. Sure, she's pretty, but you can practically hear the air blowing through her head."

Hermione looked at him with disapproval. "Harry, that's not kind." Nonetheless, Hermione made a note on her paper. "So not Mandy. Are there any other Ravenclaws you would consider, or should I just rule them out altogether?"

Harry thought about it, then shook his head. "No, I can't see myself with any of them. I mean, you know I had that thing for Cho in our fourth year – " Harry thought he heard Hermione mutter "understatement" but chose to ignore her. "But I definitely got over her after fifth year and now…no. None of the others."

This procedure continued for the next six hours, until Harry thought his head would explode. After some pleading, he had finally convinced Hermione to give it up for the day. Once she got her mind set on something, it was near impossible to dissuade her from her task. And she had most definitely dedicated herself fully to Project GHS. Frankly, Harry found her persistence in the matter a little unnerving, but he knew enough not to mention this to her.

Harry collapsed into one of the Gryffindor common room's several overstuffed armchairs. He inwardly groaned as Hermione hurried over, seating herself on the couch next to him, pulling out her notes.

"Harry, I think this is going to be more difficult than we previously anticipated. You don't seem to like _anyone_. I mean, no wonder you can't get laid. Male, female, you seem to have rejected every resident of the school. The only people you haven't actively rejected yet are the Slytherins, and I just sort of assumed that they were out of the question."

Harry leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "That's it. I give up. I'm going to join a convent."

"A monastery, Harry. Boys join monasteries. But that's not the point. There's still hope."

Harry raised his head, looking at Hermione skeptically. "How, pray tell?"

Hermione examined her notes, checking off a few items. "Well, we'll just have to go back through the list. From our research today, we have gathered that you don't like people who are too short, too skinny, too fat, too brunette, too redheaded, too smart, too stupid, too mean, too nice, too happy, too sad, or too female."

Harry groaned, collapsing back into his chair. "I'm doomed."

"Don't worry about it. You just have to be less picky. We'll just widen our options again and start the elimination process over." Hermione waved her wand over the paper, copying the list of names onto another sheet, minus the markings she had made on the first copy.

"Okay, so our search area has now been widened to include…the human race. Though if you're into the nonhuman type there's always Malfoy. He always seems to have a fair number of admirers," she suggested jokingly, in an attempt to lighten Harry's mood.

Her smile quickly vanished when she saw the look that crossed Harry's face. "Harry…Harry? What is it?" Hermione asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

Harry smiled distantly. "God…every time I see his head boy badge I wish it were an invitation."

Hermione's jaw dropped in shock. Then, as his words fully sunk in her face crinkled up in distaste. "Harry, _please_ don't be saying what I think you're saying."

"No, you're probably right."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Me and Malfoy," Harry scoffed. "Like _that's_ ever going to happen."

Hermione sighed in relief and resumed her analysis of other options. She launched into a detailed examination of the Hufflepuffs' various positive qualities, but Harry had tuned her out. His thoughts were elsewhere, focused on a certain blond Slytherin.

* * *

_Unbelievable_, Draco thought to himself as he stormed through the Hogwarts halls. _Such disrespect.__ The nerve. The unmitigated gall…how dare they…how –_

Draco's thoughts were interrupted when he felt something solid collide with his body, catapulting him to the floor. Infuriated, Draco attempted to gather the tattered shreds of his dignity and pick himself up off the floor. Caught up in fixing his displaced blond locks, he didn't at first notice who it was that had crashed into him. "Ow! You bloody oaf! Watch where you're going!"

"I'm sorry. Here, let me help you up."__

Draco eyed the proffered hand._ Wait a second. I'd know those filthy, chewed fingernails anywhere. _Sure enough, Draco followed the hand up over the robe sleeves that were marred with stains (probably from failed potions), over the bony shoulders, up to the jagged scar and green eyes. _Bloody hell._Draco saw Harry's eyes widen as he realized just who it was he had knocked over. Harry quickly retracted the hand and moved back a couple steps as Draco picked himself up off the floor.

"So, are you always this much of a clod, or should I feel honored?"

Harry's expression hardened at Draco's barb. Even if he did find the blond extremely attractive, his personality was still just as intolerable as ever. "No. Besides, it was _you_ that walked into _me_."

Draco arched his eyebrow, his face contorting into an arrogant sneer. He stepped closer, inadvertently catching a whiff of the scent that was uniquely Harry. He blinked, a flash of desire flitting across his features. Draco sighed inwardly as he attempted to reign in his hormones. His own face now showing nothing but disdain, he examined Harry's expression, but it had not altered, suggesting that the other boy had not noticed his temporary lapse. It seemed like forever, but the whole episode had occurred in merely a split second.

"Potter, I _don't_ walk into people. I'm always completely aware of all my surroundings."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course. The way you were completely aware of Neville's potion yesterday in class."

"Well, no one could have predicted that such a simple dreamless sleep potion could pick up that sort of velocity in mid-air," Draco said, pouting.

"Of course not," Harry stated in a patronizing tone of voice. "Though I must say that _I_ certainly derived a great deal of enjoyment from seeing a cauldron-full of violet potion dumped over your head."

Draco briefly curled his lip in disgust at the memory, before smirking and taking a step toward Harry. "Well, I suppose you _would_ enjoy seeing me in any situation."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry's eyes widened slightly. _He couldn't possibly know_.

"Oh please. We both know you're madly in love with me."

Harry moved closer, glaring down at Draco, who was the shorter by a couple inches. "You wish," he snarled, his sneer masking his fear.

"Oh yes. It's my wildest fantasy to be the apple of some mudblood-lover's eye."

"Well you'll just have to abandon that dream, I'm afraid, since I tend not to be terribly attracted to inbred Death Eaters."

Draco winced inwardly at the reference to his family's history of involvement with Lord Voldemort. After the Dark Lord's demise the Malfoys had, of course, been cleared, but their name had been permanently tainted. "Well you're nothing but a common house-elf thief," Draco retorted defensively.

"Ferret."

"Half-blood."

"Slut."

"Idiot."

"Whore."

The insults flew, growing progressively more infantile, and with every word Harry and Draco moved closer and closer to each other until they were practically nose-to-nose.

"Moron!"

"Midget!"

"I hate you!"

"I hate you more!"

It happened so fast that it was impossible to tell who had instigated it. One minute they were spitting insults in each other's faces, and the next their lips were locked in a bruising kiss.

Draco made a small whimpering noise in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and trying to draw their two bodies closer together. Suddenly, common sense penetrated through the fog of lust clouding his mind, and he pushed Harry off of him, stumbling backward.

"Wh – What – What…" Draco stammered, staring at Harry wide-eyed. "What was that?"

Harry looked at Draco's expression, watching the way the blond's eyes were focused on his lips, and in that instant he made a decision. Before the other boy even knew what was happening, Harry was on him again, kissing him until everything else seemed to melt away.

Draco breathed in sharply as Harry broke the connection and began placing kissing along the sensitive skin behind his ear. Harry sucked Draco's earlobe into his mouth, thoroughly laving the area. He releasing it suddenly, moving down to taste the smooth column of the blonde's neck. Harry's hands subconsciously wrapped around Draco, drawing the other boy flush against his body.

Harry sighed inwardly in contentment. This was where he was meant to be; here, kissing Draco. It went against everything he had always believed, but right now, he didn't care. He just blocked out everything, letting himself be taken over by sensation.

Draco unsuccessfully attempted to suppress a moan. The logical part of his brain that was telling him this was a bad idea was being drowned out by the intense feeling of Harry's mouth and hands roaming over his heated skin. Draco felt teeth lightly graze his jugular, snapping him out of his daze.

Draco tried to push Harry away. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, somewhat breathlessly.

"What the fuck does it look like?" Harry's words were muffled, due to his responding without pausing in his attentions.

"How the fuck should I know? You started this…whatever it is…how should I know how you're…ah…mind works."

Harry smirked as he found a particularly sensitive spot in the hollow of Draco's throat. Grinning evilly, he moved the arm that was wrapped around Draco's waist downward to grab the other boy's ass. "Then perhaps you should find out on your own. If you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you."

Draco managed to murmur, "fucking hell" before fully succumbing to Harry's kiss.

Neither one of them saw the redheaded figure watching them, nor heard him mutter, "Bloody hell" before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

The early morning sunlight came in through the window, casting light onto Harry's sleeping figure. Harry rolled over, muttering in his sleep, and threw an arm over the blond figure lying beside him. Draco rolled over to face his companion. He examined Harry's face, studying every nuance until the image was permanently seared into his mind. Draco smiled slightly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Harry's eyes.

_He looks so innocent when he sleeps_, Draco thought absently.

Suddenly, Draco drew back as if he had been struck. _What the hell am I doing?_ He remembered the way Harry had held him the night before, the way he had felt like the raven-haired boy was consuming him from the inside out. Harry's need had been palpable - evident in every kiss, every caress, every whispered word.- and what was worse, he had felt the same way.

Draco climbed hurriedly out of bed, as quietly as possible. He stiffened as Harry, seeming to sense his absence, rolled over in his sleep. He relaxed, however, when Harry just mumbled something about cheese and fell back into deep sleep.

After slipping on his trousers and shirt, minus a few buttons, Draco took one last look at Harry's peaceful figure, then left, closing the door silently behind him.

Hermione looked up from her notes as her boyfriend entered the Gryffindor common room, rubbing his forehead and looking somewhat shell-shocked.

"Hey, there you are. Where have you been? Seamus said that you never came in last night."

Ron sat down in the chair across from Hermione. "Sorry. I had a bit of a…well…" Ron said awkwardly, trying very hard not to make eye contact. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing to Hermione's notes in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Oh, it's just something I'm doing for Harry. He wanted me to help find him a date." Hermione gave Ron a quizzical look as he fell into a mysterious coughing fit.

"I don't think he needs your help any more."

"What?"

Just then Harry came downstairs, distracting Hermione from her interrogation of Ron. His typically messy appearance was even more unkempt than usual. His robes were open, exposing his untied school tie and the mismatched buttons of his shirt. The pathetic ensemble was capped by his more than usually messy black hair and the downtrodden expression on his face. He flopped down into his favorite armchair without greeting his friends.

"Harry?" Hermione inquired, wondering what could have possibly caused her friend's morose mood.

Harry mumbled an incoherent reply that sounded a lot like 'murmf.'

"Harry, what happened?"

"Nothing." Harry looked down at his feet, wishing that she would stop badgering him. He understood that she was concerned, but he had more important things to think about. Things like what could have caused Draco to leave him this morning, and what was he going to do about it.

"You call making out with your mortal enemy _nothing_?!"__

Harry's head snapped up, his jaw dropping at Ron's exclamation. "Excuse me?" he asked, praying that he was going crazy and had heard incorrectly.

"You heard me."

Hermione shook her head, breaking out of a shock-induced fog. "Wait, wait. Let me get this straight; you're trying to tell me that you saw him making out with _Lord Voldemort_…Have you been hanging out in the potions closet again?"

"No no. Not Voldemort. The other loathsome being that we hate with a fiery passion.

"_Ron…_" Harry said in a pleading tone.

"Draco Malfoy." Ron all but hissed the name, his face contorted with disgust.

The awkward silence that followed could have been cut with a knife. Harry shrunk down into his seat, his face flushed as he tried he best to avoid eye-contact with his friends.

Finally, Hermione spoke. "Is it true?"

"Would I make something like that up?" Ron interrupted before Harry could respond. "Seriously. I think I'm scarred for life."

Harry stared at his feet, wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow him. "It wasn't planned. It just sort of happened."

"Oh Harry," Hermione groaned. "When I told you to be less picky, I didn't mean _that_ less picky. You need to have some standards."

"He's not that bad," Harry protested.

"Not that bad?!" Ron sputtered, unbelievingly. "It's against all laws of Nature! It's _Malfoy_."

"He's not…" Harry repeated his protest, but more weakly than before. Despite Draco's abandonment that morning his friend's disapproval of even a hypothetical relationship still stung.

"Sure he's not, mate. Sure he's not." Ron patted Harry on the shoulder in a patronizing manner. It was meant to be at least marginally comforting, since Ron felt some guilt at causing Harry to look even more miserable, but the effect was ruined by the expression of pure horror he still wore.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Harry sighed. "It didn't mean anything."

Hermione looked skeptical. "I don't buy it. There's got to be something else. You don't have one-night stands."

"Don't I? Did I not ask you to find me a quick shag?"

"But that was – "

"Well it turned out that I didn't need your help. I found a fuck all by myself. I-I found…" Harry's voice began to break and he furiously wiped an unbidden tear from his eye.

Ron and Hermione watched in silence as Harry tried to keep himself from breaking down completely. They wanted to reach out and comfort him, but neither knew what to say. They didn't even know the specific cause of his misery, though they each had a pretty good guess.

Hermione managed to come up with something to say first. "What did he do, Harry?" she asked in a quiet, comforting tone.

"He left. He didn't say anything, he just left."

"I'm sorry."

Harry looked up, surprised at the sympathetic words spoken by his red-haired friend, given the boy's vehement objections to the relationship just moments ago. Harry raised his eyebrow and Ron just shrugged.

"You don't deserve that. He doesn't deserve you."

"Yeah, right," Harry said skeptically.

"It's true," Hermione agreed. "I'm so sorry that prick Malfoy hurt you, but in the end it'll be him that suffers, because he won't have you. He's an idiot."

Harry smiled weakly. "Thanks."

* * *

Blaise came downstairs, rubbing his eyes wearily and yawning. _I'm really not a morning person_, he thought to himself as he flopped down into his usual chair, flopping an arm over his face. It was then that he heard a muffled groan coming from the floor next to the fireplace. Blaise forced his eyes open, using the arm to shield his face from the seemingly glaring light as he looked for the source of the noise.

What he found was a downright pathetic sight: Draco was curled up, his knees pressed up against his chest, as he leaned against the wall, staring into the old embers at the bottom of the fireplace and sighing dramatically.

"Draco?"

Draco merely sighed in response, prompting Blaise to move closer, somewhat cautiously. It was most likely nothing, but when Draco was in one of his moods it could often prove dangerous to those caught in the crossfire. "What are you doing?"

"Hmph."

Blaise smiled inwardly at Draco's petulant attitude, opting for a more teasing tone to his questioning. "Where were _you_ last night?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hmph."

"Ah, I see that you're in one of your chatty moods."

"Blaise."

"Yes?"

"Fuck off."

Blaise grinned and, ignoring Draco's plea, plopped down on the couch. "So, what's got your knickers in a twist this time?"

"Nothing." Draco glared at Blaise, accepting that the dark-haired Slytherin wasn't going to be leaving any time soon. "Just leave it," he added defeatedly.

Blaise's grin dissolved as he began to suspect that something might be seriously wrong with his friend.

"Draco? What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. Really." Draco really wished that Blaise would leave him alone to mope in peace. In his opinion he wasn't nearly done brooding on what an idiot he'd been to first sleep with Harry and then leave him. He had not yet decided which was the more stupid of the two acts, since it was really a toss-up in his mind.

"Then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?"

"I don't have a puppy," Draco muttered, pouting.

"Okay, then you look like your hypothetical puppy was punted. Either way, the fact remains that you look totally miserable. You're a mess."

"Excuse me? I am never. A. Mess." Draco attempted to appear at least partially offended. Usually insulting his appearance would have warranted some sort of serious punishment, but today he really was in no mood for doling out hexes.

"Yeah, right."

"Look. If I tell you will you go away?"

"Yeah, alright," Blaise agreed, nodding.

"Fine. I slept with Potter. Happy now? Good. So fuck off."

Blaise stood, slack-jawed, staring down at the morose, slightly irate figure. "I'm sorry. I must be going insane. I thought you just said that you had sex with Harry Potter."

Draco sighed. "Why are you still here?"

Blaise slowly sat down, his eyes fixed on the blond. "I don't believe it."

"I don't care. Now will you _please_ leave me alone to brood in peace!"

"So what did you do?" Blaise asked, giving Draco a calculating look, the shock of the confession wearing off a little.

"Excuse me?" 

"Well you must have done something. You have one-night stands all the time, so another one shouldn't upset you."

"Can't it be enough that I had sex the goddamn Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die?"

"No," Blaise answered, earning a glare from the blond. "I'm guessing that you screwed something up."

Why do you automatically assume it was my fault?"

Blaise gave Draco a pointed look.

"I left, alright?"

"Well that was stupid," the brunette said flatly.

"Come on. You know as well as I do that it would never have worked out."

"So then why are you so upset?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why do you think?"

Blaise's gaze remained level. "You tell me."

The blond Slytherin avoided his friend's question, staring at his feet. "Look, it's just impossible, alright? He will always be Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and I will always be Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater. One night of sex can't change that."

"Do you want it to?"

Draco sighed. "I don't know."

Blaise smiled knowingly. "Yes you do."

* * *

"Come on, Harry. You've been sitting there all day." Hermione frowned as she looked at her friend's mournful figure. She hated the blond Slytherin for reducing here friend to this state.

"Yeah, you missed Potions. Snape had a right cow over it," Ron added, joining his girlfriend.

"Don't care," Harry responded shortly. "Snape can go to hell for all I care."

All three turned as they heard a commotion outside the portrait hole. Someone was banging on the portrait demanding entrance while the Fat Lady shrieked in indignation.

Hearing the noise as he came downstairs, Seamus went over and opened the door. "What do _you_ want," he asked scathingly.

"Take me to your leader."

Draco took one step into the room, observed who the occupants were, then turned on his heel and attempted to make a break for it. His retreat was, however, halted by a hand grabbing the collar of his robes and directing him back toward the center of the room. The hand released Draco's collar, then gave him a shove, causing the blond to stumble forward a few steps.

Draco turned around to glare at the owner of the hand, who also happened to be the one responsible for his current presence in the room to begin with. Blaise had asked Draco to go to the library with him to help him study for their Potions finals. Not really paying attention, Draco had been shocked to realize that they had, in fact, ended up in the Room of Requirements. To then find the room occupied by none other than Harry Potter and his merry band of followers was just too much.

"Blaise, how could you? You swore the most undying of fealties," Draco questioned in a betrayed tone.

Blaise shrugged. "Sorry mate. It was for your own good."

Defeatedly, Draco watched as Harry stepped forward, his gaze level. Draco lowered his eyes, unable to look at the brunette.

"You left," Harry stated simply.

Draco just nodded, still refusing to look at Harry.

"Why?"

The question was simple enough, but it rocked Draco to his core. Draco stared at Harry dumbly, while the other boy merely stood, seemingly emotionless, awaiting his response. The other three occupants of the room stared at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. It was becoming clear that Harry was not going to let the question go. Draco would have to say something. The problem was, however, that he himself didn't know the answer. In the end, that was what he said.

"I don't know." Draco's quietly spoken answer reverberated around the room.

Harry nodded to the others, silently asking them to leave. Respecting his wishes, Hermione, Ron, and Blaise quietly left the room, leaving Harry and Draco alone.

Once the room was empty, save for the two of them, Harry resumed his line of questioning. "So are you just in the habit of sleeping with people and then abandoning them without so much as a by your leave?"

"Well, I, uh….you see. Yes, I am." The words were spoken truthfully, but Draco wished that they weren't. In all honesty he did have a habit of using people and then leaving them, but for some reason he didn't want Harry to know this.

"Is that all this was?"

Draco fumbled for the right thing to say. "It was, well…"

"I know you're not used to having to answer to your actions, but try to tell me the truth. Please. You owe me that much."

"Well I was, uh…"

"You were uh what, Draco?" Harry winced at his harsh tone, and forced himself to calm his temper.

"You know."

"No, I don't know. Why don't you tell me."

"I was kind of freaked, alright?" He had actually said it. Draco couldn't believe his own words.

"Why?"

Draco unconsciously stepped forward, finally raising his gaze to meet Harry's penetrating eyes. He took a deep breath, formulating what to say. Finally, he spoke. "Because…this wasn't supposed to happen. We were never anything but enemies, and that was just the way things were, and I could deal with that. But this – it goes against everything I've always believed."

Harry was slightly stunned at Draco's confession. While his goal had been to get some truth out of the other boy, this was more than he had hoped for. Harry moved closer, raising a hand to lightly brush Draco's hair. "Look, let's play a game."

Draco looked at the Gryffindor as if he had sprouted another head. "A _game_?"

"Yes. Let's pretend that nothing apart from you and me – from this – exists. Alright?"

"Okay…" Draco responded hesitantly.

"Good. Now answer me this; do you want to be with me or not?"

"I do." The answer came easily. Draco thought about trying to take it back, but he realized it was true, and he couldn't bear to wipe the happy smile from Harry's face.

"So what does the rest of it matter?"

Draco shook his head. "But what will people say? It'll cause an uproar."

Harry took Draco's face in his hands and leaned forward to place a feather-light kiss on his forehead, then raised the blond's gaze to meet his own. "I don't care what other people think. And since when have you ever been dictated by the whims of others?"

Draco smiled. "Never."

"Good. Then where's the problem?"

"I don't know." Draco's smile broadened into a grin and he threw his arms around Harry, holding him as close as he could.

"Well your mood certainly changes quickly," Harry commented jokingly.

"You seem to have that effect on me."

"Good." Harry sighed, reveling in the moment and the feel of Draco in his arms. "So no more of your issues, right?"

"I don't _have_ issues," Draco muttered indignantly. The effect was, however, ruined by the fact that he was still clutching the other boy like a lifeline.

Harry smiled at Draco's childish protest. "If you say so, dear. If you say so."

* * *

**Epilogue**

Ron sighed, shutting his eyes and laying his head against the wall. "We've been out here for hours. What are they _doing_ in there?"

After being asked to leave, the three of them had decided to wait for their friends in the hall outside the Room of Requirements. It had turned out to be a much longer wait than any of them had anticipated. Four hours later, Ron, Hermione, and Blaise were still sitting there.

Hermione coughed avoiding Ron's eyes while Blaise smirked, raising his eyebrows. Catching on, Ron flushed a deep scarlet. "Oh my god. That's just wrong."

Blaise shrugged. "Either that or they've killed each other."

"Should we check? You know, make sure they're alright," Hermione asked worriedly.

"Well, do _you_ want to go in there? Because if they're not dead then that may not be something you want to go barging in on," Blaise pointed out.

Ron shuddered with revulsion. "Eww."

* * *

Three hours later, Harry and Draco finally emerged to find their friends all propped up against the wall, fast asleep.

Harry nodded toward the room they had just exited, causing Draco to grin wickedly and drag the brunette back into the Room of Requirements.

It would be some time before they would reemerge.


End file.
